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twitching nerves inside; his blue eyes revealed nothing. His silver hair was parted down the right side and combed back, and his mouth was a thin, carved line.
    He straightened his black tie, brushed imaginary lint off of his dark blue Waffenrock , then pulled the seams down so the red piping lay straight along the hems. A sharp crease ran down the legs of his slate-grey breeches.
    Frowning, the Commandant leaned closer. A fingerprint marred the silver eagle above his right breast pocket.
    That will never do .
    He grabbed a tissue from the dispenser on his desk and buffed until the silver gleamed. Then he polished the four diamond insignia and the SS rune.
    Better .
    Straightening the silver braided belt, he turned just as the door swung open.
    Corporal Niklas Kraus, his senior clerk, stepped through. “ Heil Hitler ,” he said, arm extended at eye level.
    The Commandant returned the salute, and Niklas stood at attention. Hans inspected the enlisted man; he looked sharp in his dark-blue tunic and grey breeches. The brassy buttons were polished to perfection. His honey-blond hair, trimmed and neat, looked very professional.
    “At ease.”
    Relaxing, Niklas placed his hands behind his back “ Fräulein Aalexis and Herr Xaver have arrived, sir.”
    “Yes. Yes. I know. Are they through the gate yet?” he said, taking a seat in his leather chair.
    “The front-gate just called to verify the papers, sir.”
    “Very good,” Hans said, with confidence he didn’t possess. “Escort them in when they arrive.”
    “Yes, sir.” Niklas closed the door behind him, leaving the commandant alone with his thoughts.

    Aalexis turned in her seat and watched the two inferiors who had greeted her and Xaver at the gate rush back inside the checkpoint. The guards watched the SUV, their lips moving with unheard words, as the metal gate slid across the road and clanged shut. She turned back around, listening to the tires grate across the pebbles and dirt, while Xaver navigated toward a long rectangular building with stairs. He pulled right in front of the door and pushed the ignition button that turned off the engine. Without speaking, he turned toward her, his blue eyes iridescent under the glow of the interior lights. She ignored him and looked out the window.
    Amarufoss Concentration Camp was as flat and boring as rest of the area she’d seen thus far. Four-meter-high walls made of thick concrete blocks encircled the camp with rolls of razor wire crowning the tops, the sharpened edges glinting in the sun. On the other side of the barrier, unseen from the inside, lay more rows of the razor wire and, surrounding the perimeter, a chain-link fence. Off to the right, another block wall separated the camp into two. The female barracks lay on the other side, but Aalexis wasn’t interested in them. All the names Rein had called during interrogation were male. All except for her sister’s.
    Xaver opened the passenger door.
    Reminiscent of cold gusts off Lake Michigan, the wind blowing across the plains held the same icy feel that cut right through any clothing and bit tender skin. The only difference was that the plains’ wind held the odor of dust and the stench of filthy Renegades, instead of a wintery clean scent blowing off the water.
    Aalexis didn’t like it.
    Grabbing Xaver’s extended hand, Aalexis scooted free from the passenger seat. She released him as soon as she was upright, then closed her fist tight, wishing away the tingling and the sense of comfort he provided for her. She couldn’t understand the feeling his touch elicited.
    She didn’t like that either.
    Until her father had died by Ellyssa’s hand, any physical contact had been forbidden. Since his death, however, Xaver had touched her freely. Helping her out of cars, placing a hand on her back as they walked.
    It was confusing. Physical contact led to emotions. Emotions led to weakness. Aaelexis was not weak. As a matter of fact, she was the strongest, bestowed with a